Bipolar Journey

It is amazing what I can find when I go back and read my journal. The following is an example.

When you come to a point in your life where you know things can only go two ways, you are screwed. Believe me it has happened to me on several occasions. The “occasion” has blasted itself into my life once again.
My mom used to make me take this “castor oil” once every six months. (You know, the kind of thing of “whether you need it or not.”) It was the sickest thing ever swallowed by me. I would see her preparing it and I would go to running. One day she chased me all the way to the end of the driveway spoon and oil in hand. I knew I had to stop running. I set the situation up, got my mind set, and then swallowed it.
Such is my life. I keep running from what feels like a spoon full of castor oil.

Ever so often, close family members (like about four in all) who are aware of my illness ask me what a panic attack is like. Is like? I can only tell about one particular attack. I can’t really put it into educated words. It is my experience I am able to tell them. “Do you want to hear about a mild one or a wild one?” I always ask. “The “wild” ones are few but they are the one the ones I remember most. Of course they want to hear about the wild ones.
I ran to the bathroom slammed the door and began to eject the dinner I had just eaten. Slumping down on the floor, slowly from within, I begin to shake. I lean against the wall and started to cry. Their back. My husband is knocking on the door he thinks it must have been something I ate. “In a minute,” I muffle. I stand and wash up. As I turn, I feel my heat burn in my chest and flame to my face. I walk out the bathroom into kitchen with a lightness in my head. “I am here, I think.” I sit at the table and a rush of voices come.Yes, their back. Former attacks, bad memories, and future fears are behind the voices. I can’t think. In my mind I am unable to finish a sentence. I see my husband walking over bringing me a glass of water. He speaks and his voice is far away. I sip some of the water and close my eyes. Once closed, my eyes bring blurs of lights. My mouth goes dry and I begin to feel as though I am being choked. I run back to the bathroom. Again, the liquid in my stomach flies out. I am so hot I strip myself of my clothes. My head falls onto the seat and I continue to vomit. I am now to weak to get up. Once finished, I fall to the floor. The tile brings me a chill. As I lay there, my body shakes. Finally, my body falls limp and I slowly begin to recover. I find my purse, swallow down my “Panic Attach Medicine.” Slowly, I return to what is called an “old self.”

That my sister, is a panic attack.

My first reality break occurred 12 years ago while on vacation. Thus every vacation forward from that event, has been met with much anxiety. It has gotten easier. I have learned some healthy skills to cope and I try to only travel where I would feel comfortable. Last year was a troublesome one and I was not able to travel at all. Now better, I was looking forward to this year. I had been invited by a friend to Hawaii and it was her treat. My first feeling was exhilaration. On a whim I accepted.

Then came the doubts and the what ifs. My biggest concern was my medication. The flight to Hawaii is quite long. Flying has always been a bit unsettling. Plus, I did not know if I could keep on track with my medicine. My daily takes are my life line. Last year I was sent another psychotic episode, I am currently on more medicines that ever. These medications are bound by time. Taking them as prescribed has kept break-through moods from silent.

Well, I did it. The plane trip was terrific. I took enough books and magazines my carry-on could hold. I brought things that were familiar to me such as: a small pillow, my favorite water, and a blanket. I kept myself organized. The flight back from Hawaii, not as equal to the beginning one, still went without incident. A sense of fatigue hit me when I was back home. I reasoned it came with sticking to my medicines regardless of the change in time zones.

While there, the trip was lovely. In the last 12 years since my diagnosis, I only had a great flight and trip one time. It was this time.

So, I have this coworker that bugs me. She gets away with the least amount of work. Always says she will do things and never follows through, and really looks out for the best things for herself. I sometimes get so frustrated with her I want to knock her block off. She think she is the boss. The boss doesn’t see it. It has to do with her doing “little nice thingees” for the boss that she is able to constantly continue. Okay, so she’s the bosses pet. How does one get to be the boss’s pet? Is there a place where you can sign up or pay money to get it?

I work hard and I dedicate myself to overcoming the million different moods that want to manifest themselves at any given moment.

Everyday I watch her and others. I try not to. I know by watching her and those like, it will just frustrate me even more.  I really don’t want the unnecessary energy depletion looking at someone else causes.  I must choose to look within.

An anonymous person once said, “If you chase two rabbits, both will escape.”  I have enough trouble chasing myself.

Since this recent episode has begun to subside, I am getting out a little more.  I have continued through it all to make it to work with a few exceptions.  Getting out and participating in activities has been nonexistent.  Now the holidays are here and there is a certain amount of expectation to involve ones self in all the activities, parties, events, etc.  I made it to my first party last night.  It was a dinner.  It started at 7:00 and ended promptly at 9:00.  I felt fine being there.  I pasted on my smile and talked.  I realized how being absent from so many events leaves many people within your circle with questions.  I decided to avoid that topic and focus on why we were there: to celebrate.  Who wants to hear at a fun party about someone’s dragging depression?  That is conversation killer.

My reclusive behavior has generally been constant.  I think most people find it fitting with my character.  I have another party tonight.  This is a work party.  It is supposed to start at 6:00 and end at 8:00.  I love the kind of event where you know the time you will be finished.  I guess it has something to do with how long they can rent the room or whatever.  So, two parties two nights in a row.  That has to be a record.  I am enduringly grateful I am able to manage it.  Coming up I have this party where it’s like the last one to leave wins a prize or at least bragging rights.  I have decided with all the events if I feel I am to weary to continue “having fun” I will just leave.  That is really freeing for me.  I can fulfill my obligation and still take care of myself.

The family thing is a different animal.  The expectations around Christmas are high.  There is no time for depression.  Fortunately, I have been surviving.  I got the decorations up and am appreciating the beauty of them.  My children think I am weird because I don’t like to go to stores.  They are beginning to get it.  Plus they like seeing packages come to the door from where I have gotten online and got the gifts.

The season is kind of tough, let’s go easy on ourselves.